


Dust Town (It sticks to your skin)

by TourmalineQueen



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Headcanon, Missing Scene, dragon age prompt fest fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 20:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3147974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineQueen/pseuds/TourmalineQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warden goes shopping in Denerim, and Alistair earns that some habits die very hard indeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dust Town (It sticks to your skin)

Alistair had never paid much attention to the merchants they had passed, save for when he needed to buy something, at which point he would go to the merchant, pick the thing, pay for it and leave. Leliana, Morrigan, Wynne and even Natia did not treat shopping as an excercise in acquiring what was needed and moving on, however. And most of the time, it was a female-only activity. But in Denerim, at the Dwarven Smith merchant's stall, Natia tugged Alistair over to examine his wares with her.

Alistair rather wished he had paid more attention to Natia when she had gone shopping. It was disconcerting to find her subdued, occasionally tugging on his sleeve and pointing at an item she wanted a closer look at. And each time he tried to hand it to her ("it" being a dagger, or a bow, or a piece of armour) she wouldn't touch it, and just asked him what he thought of it.

"Natia, I do not use these types of weapons. I'm a sword and shield man - you _know_ this. Why am I being treated like the expert on daggers all of a sudden?"

Natia glanced at the merchant, who was occupied with another customer, and jerked her head to one side. "I'm from Dust Town and he's form the Diamond Quarter," she said quietly.

"What has that got to do with anything?" Alistair was really confused.

Natia sighed, swiped a hand over her eyes, ground her teeth together. "I'm casteless. My touch will sully his wares and nobody else will want to look at them. So I asked you to look at them because you're a warrior, and he won't mind if you- if you- Never mind. I think I'll try the Rivaini merchant stand." 

She trudged away, looking so defeated that Alistair's heart hurt for her. The merchant hailed her as she padded away from his stall.

"Is there a problem with my wares?"

"No, ser, I just thought it might be better if I didn't - Dust Town, _you_ know they say it sticks to your skin," she replied, as politely as she could manage.

"My Lady Aeducan never believed that," the merchant replied softly, voice cracking only slightly as he spoke. "And up here? What does caste or clan matter up on the surface? I'm an exile, too, you know."

Natia looked at him in surprise. "I-I never thought of it that way before, not really. But... Would you go back, if you could?"

Gorim looked at the casteless Warden, and shook his head sadly. "Without my Lady Aeducan, Orzammar means nothing to me."

Natia nodded, glancing up at Alistair, still holding the Red Steel soan in his too-large hand. "I know how you feel."   
Deliberately she lifted the blade out of his hand, spun it deftly around her fingers, and nodded at the merchant. "I'll take this, and if there's a match for it, I'll take that, too."

"As you wish, my Lady."

"I'm no lady - I'm a Warden."


End file.
